Camp 19.  In the bed of the River Gilbert (I take it to be) no room for camp anywhere else.  The country is literally teeming with euro and wallaby, but as the natives are about in the rocks and precipices hunting we have no chance of shooting any.  Very cloudy yet; rained a little during the night but nothing of any consequence; we cannot now be more than from sixty to seventy miles from the River Burdekin but from this spot utterly impracticable.  Had to come down this length for anything like feed; traces of numbers of natives and their fires still burning.  Went up the rocks and precipices on the eastern side of the river, and found that a high range extends eastwards, running north-west and south-east, completely blocking us in from here.  Rode down the river to see if there is any likelihood of our getting out east by a tributary that it receives about one and a half miles down but found not.  Rained a little in the forenoon and slight showers during the afternoon.  Found that the old Indian camel (Narro) was unable to get up and go about to feed so, considering that the horses and the two remaining camels (Arabs) wanted a spell for a few days, I resolved upon killing the old camel and using him whilst here to save our dried beef, reluctantly as he is everything but a favourite morsel, but when we are compelled it is no use hesitating so had him shot; and firstly had his liver stewed or steamed, which I must say was the most extraordinary morsel I ever attempted to eat; it was as dry and juiceless and of as little flavour as if it had never formed a component part of any living animal; scarcely any of the party could touch it.

Tuesday, June 17.

In Camp 19, sandy bed of river.  Rained pretty heavily during the night in showers.  Cut up the meat of the camel to dry but the weather is very unfavourable; the rest of him eats much better than the liver; the heart is quite as good as a bullock’s and the meat, considering the condition of the animal, not at all as tough as one would expect; the party after starving for two or three meals have quietly taken to him now and rather like the meat.

Wednesday, June 18.

Still in Camp 19—­not the most enviable place in the world.  Heavy dew last night.  I am afraid the meat we are attempting to dry will be a failure on account of the moist state of the weather.  I was sadly grieved on return of the party that went to see after the horses to learn that one of our very best horses (Rowdy) was lying dead a short distance down the river, still warm; he must have been poisoned or bitten by a snake; at present we will feel his loss much as he was so strong and always kept fat.  Although the meat will not be quite dry I will see and make a start out of this in the morning in case it may be some poisonous herb that may happen to be in the bed of the river.  I will return up the river to where the main branch joined the tributary we came down, and try by following it for some distance to get some place where I can ascend the ranges to the east, but I expect it to be a work of great difficulty; however that I will think nothing of if I only succeed and get the animals all over safe.  The weather seems taking up now.